The Butterflies Disappeared
by junealondra
Summary: "Do you ever wonder what it would be like to fly?" - Sometimes you find out love can't overcome everything. Draco/Luna oneshot.


A/N: Hello beautiful people! Again, it's been a while. For those of you keeping track, this is a part of the ongoing promptie challenge wiff mah be sties **Bruhaeven** nut **LeRequiem**. Also, for anyone else keeping track, I promise I'm going to finish Miracles, this was just stuck in my brain and I had to get it out before I could write anything else.

On to Story Notes!: The dates should help a bit, but basically, in case you're unsure, 1997 is 7th year, so the story begins the summer before 7th year. Also, 2017 is when the epilogue happens.

Now READ!

Prompt: The butterflies disappeared.

* * *

><p>1997<p>

Summer:

There's something about the way she moves that makes her seem shiny, he thinks. Maybe it's the way the sun reflects off her pale skin when she twirls around, or the golden strands of hair that whip through the hot summer air.

It could be just the soft iridescence of the lilac shirt she wears, but somehow he thinks it's more than that.

It comes from within. Shiny bubbles burst from every inch of her being as she spins and swirls and twists in the tall grass.

She wears cream-colored pants and a long necklace whose charm looks like a miniature Remembrall. Her soft, wavy hair is pulled into a wispy, feathered braid that falls down her back.

She pauses her joyful dance for a moment to bask in the sun's golden light. With both hands reaching up and back, she closes her eyes and hums happily as the warm light licks her face.

"Draco, how can you sit there staring at a newspaper when there are so many pretty things around you?"

He looks up from the newspaper he wasn't really reading anyways. There's something about the Dark Lord, or Death Eaters, or something else dark and dreary on the front page. But sitting in the soft grass, with the summer sun beating down, and a breeze bristling through the weeds, none of that seems important.

He slowly reacts to her question, and shakes his head as he smiles.

"Well, the Shack certainly looks better in the summer than the winter, but I still wouldn't call it pretty, Luna."

Her eyes follow his to the dilapidated Shrieking Shack at the bottom of the hill, and she giggles.

She takes a few loose steps forward, and drops into the soft grass beside him. Leaning on one elbow, her fingers twirl around in the air next to a small yellow butterfly that darts and flutters just out of her grasp.

He watches, entranced by the furtive movements of the tiny insect, until it finally lands on Luna's exposed shoulder. Her face makes a half-smile and she whispers softly,

"I wasn't talking about the Shack, Draco."

...

Fall:

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like to fly?"

The words leave her mouth before she's even finished sitting down. As she does, the racking laughter begins, and the dark stares and glares meet her own dazed and unfazed gaze.

"I wonder about it a lot, as a matter of fact." She closes her eyes, as if imagining the sensation of falling and twisting through the empty air.

Her eyes fly open as she feels pain rip through her arm and she trips over her feet as she's pulled brusquely away from the Slytherin table and out of the Great Hall.

"What's wrong, Draco?"

His eyes are alight with a glowing anger. His fingers press harder into her arm as his grip tightens.

"Draco. You're hurting me."

Her eyes are large and wide, as always, but empty of their usual dreamy quality. Instead, there is only a sad reality reflected in her hazy, blue irises.

Draco's eyes flicker to her arm, and the white spots where his hand is pressing into her skin. With an angry huff he releases her arm and turns away towards the great stained glass window in the empty hallway.

There's a silence, during which Luna gently rubs the spots where her arm is already beginning to change to a dark reddish-blue.

"Draco?"

She takes a step forward, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder, but he turns around before she can.

"Look, Luna – This, _this_" He gestures vaguely to the two of them "isn't a thing. _This_ isn't happening anymore, and as far as anyone at Hogwarts is concerned, _this_ never happened at all – okay?"

She looks like maybe she's saddened by these words, but he can't be sure.

"Do you understand, Luna?"

She's looking past him, again, lost to reality – this reality, anyways.

"Look – it's stuck. How sad."

He turns to where her slender finger is pointing. There, in the corner of a trellis attached to the side of the castle, a butterfly struggles in a sticky web.

"Oh no! Stop –"

Luna throws open the window and reaches out, trying to free the suffering insect as she spies the large red spider the web belongs to.

"No, stop, please…"

Suddenly there are tears, and she fights to reach the web, which is far out of her grasp, as the spider moves ever so slowly up the web to the yellow butterfly.

Draco stands behind Luna, and, with one hand around her waist, pulls her away from the window.

"No! Stop it – I can reach it! I can save him – I can -"

She struggles against Draco, but he pulls her away from the window, shushing her gently.

"You can't - It's okay, Luna. It's okay."

Then he pulls out his wand, and whispers into her ear as his own tears mingle with her hair.

"I'm sorry, Luna. It's better this way."

He points the wand at the struggling butterfly.

"_Incendio_."

She collapses.

...

Winter:

She sits on the stone cold floor. There are no windows, no light, and she has no way of knowing how much time has passed.

They keep her fed, but barely – so she can't even tell the time by how many meals she's received.

At first, she tries to keep track of the days by how many times she wakes up from sleeping – but as time passes (or doesn't pass) she slowly stops being able to tell when she's sleeping, and when she's just laying awake on the cold, dark, floor.

She sings to herself, but eventually, she loses her voice, and again she's left in the cold, dark, silence of the cellar.

One day, or morning, or evening, he finally shows his face.

She hears his footsteps as he slowly descends the stairs. There's a grating sound as he passes through the first iron gate, and pools of golden candlelight make shadows on the stone walls as he makes his way towards the cell she lies in.

As he comes into view, the light becomes too much for her sensitive pupils, and she is forced to squeeze her eyes shut.

"Luna?"

His voice is soft, gentle, but she knows better than to believe it.

She turns away to face the stones of the back wall.

She hears the clinking of metal keys and the scrape of the gate unlocking, but she just moves closer to the wall.

She listens, as he places one…. two things on the floor, before sitting down as well.

She's not sure how long it is. She just lays… staring at the flickering shadows cast on the wall. Eventually, there's a sigh behind her, and the light goes out with a huff.

She listens carefully until her eyes have readjusted to the darkness. It's not long before she hears the breathing behind her become steady and low.

Carefully, trying not to make a sound, she slowly rolls over.

There, she sees him.

It's almost hard to recognize the features, which have become exaggerated by what appears to be sleep deprivation, and perhaps malnutrition.

There are deep black rings surrounding his eyes, which, like his cheeks, seem to have sunken into his skull.

She watches his body move slowly as he breathes in…. and out…

A single tear rolls out of the corner of his eye.

Without moving, without opening his eyes, he whispers, so softly,

"I'm so sorry, Luna. I'm so sorry."

She gasps, and quickly shuts her eyes again. Squeezing them shut, as if that would somehow make him disappear.

"Luna, please…"

She sits up, eyes open now, as she rocks back and forth on her heels, trying to find a happy place, an escape from the reality that's happening before her.

She buries her head in her knees, and she sees the candle flare to life behind her closed eyelids.

It's bright, so bright, and her eyes start to tear, irritated by the red light threatening to seep through her closed lids.

"Stop it. Please, just leave me alone. Please."

She feels a set of cold fingertips brush hair behind one of her ears, and she lets out a small yelp and backs away into the corner of the room.

"Go. Away."

Draco moves back to the candle, giving her space, but replies firmly,

"No."

They sit there for a time, trapped in a stalemate. He refuses to leave, and she shivers in the corner.

Finally, her eyes start to droop, and exhaustion takes over, and she feels herself fall forward towards the stone floor. But he doesn't catch her.

…

She wakes up exactly where she fell asleep. She lifts her head slowly, feeling the sticky spot where her head collided with the floor.

"I can fix that, if you'll let me."

She almost doesn't see him in the dark… or maybe it has more to do with her head injury than with the darkness.

In any case, she shakes her head 'no'.

Exhausted, she finally lets her eyes fall to the objects on the floor: A candle – that she knew – and a tall jar. She squints, trying to figure out what's inside, but it's too dark…

She points weakly, toward the jar.

Draco lights a match, and ignites the candle – illuminating the room.

In the light, she sees that there are holes in the lid of the tall glass jar. It takes a while for her eyes to focus on what's inside, but finally, her eyes are able to settle on the shimmering object, and she sees that it's a green butterfly.

Her eyes process it, and then her mind, and then she begins to weep.

Tears run down her face, and she moans, "No, no, no, no, no, no…"

On his hands and knees, Draco slowly moves towards her, concerned, but, using the wall for support, she pushes her self off the ground and away from him as her cries become more troubled.

"No! No. No. NO!"

She flails, as he places a hand on either shoulder, trying to calm her down – but she rips herself out of his grasp and falls to the ground.

She picks up the tall jar and tries to unscrew its top. Unable to, she takes it, and smashes the lid against the stone floor, replacing the lid with one of her frail hands so the insect cannot escape.

"Luna!"

She holds onto the jagged jar tightly, blood starting to drip from her hands.

Draco watches in horror, not sure what he should do.

Then, she does something he doesn't expect.

She takes the jar, and inverts it over top of the candle.

"Luna! Stop!"

He drops to the floor as well, and tries to pry the jar from her hands as the butterfly struggles in the heat and the candle flickers and dims as it becomes starved of oxygen.

He tries to pull her hands away from the glass, but she's surprisingly strong – as if she's using all of her remaining strength to complete this one, final task.

The candle extinguishes, releasing a stream of smoke into the jar. The butterfly struggles for a little while longer, before it too is extinguished.

She lets go of the jar, and all that is left is a wilted butterfly, a pool of blood and the smell of smoke.

She stares at the debris, and Draco falls back onto the floor.

"Luna, why?"

She answers, whispering softly even as her eyes are closing…

"No one should live like this… It's better this way."

...

2017

Fall:

The red steam engine pulled into the station, the same as always. It looked exactly as it had nineteen years ago, glistening in the September sunlight. It didn't look like it had aged a single day. It didn't seem fair.

Draco looked down at his shoes. Unlike the train, they showed signs of wear – small scuffs around the toes, and worn down soles. He felt old in them.

Shrieks of owls, and crying mothers kissing their children goodbye finally broke through his musings, and he was pulled back to the busy station.

"Well, well, well… If it isn't Mr. Draco Malfoy."

He turned around, hands in his pockets, gaze cool. He would recognize that shrill voice anywhere.

"Pansy." He said with a sharp nod.

She was wearing a long purple dress, and a fur shawl. A hat with drooping lace covered most of her face, and an icy blue smoke curled out of her mouth and from the long cigarette in her hand.

The stood in silence for a moment, both taking the other in: her mockery of elegance, and his lackluster grey.

"Well, it seems like you're doing pretty well for yourself…"

"I daresay, better than _you_ look, Draco. Really now, who in the world would have imagined –"

Her undoubtedly thick insult was cut short as a small, chubby boy with dark curly hair ran straight into her dress, bawling.

"I don' wanna go! I don' wanna!"

"Ughh, Jonathan, _please_. What did mommy say about being a pest. Go on, now – shoo!"

The boy sniffled a bit more, rubbing a generous amount of snot into the silky purple material of Pansy's dress, before slowly shuffling back towards the train.

"Excellent parenting, Pansy. Really, I always knew you'd be a great Mum." Just a hint of a smile slipped onto Draco's face. Bickering, it made it so easy to just pretend like nothing had ever happened.

"Oh shut up, you little twat." If the outfit had fooled anyone, its cheap façade was now completely broken down as Pansy's crude manner emerged. She sniffed and looked away, perhaps aware of this fact.

Draco just smirked.

"Well, I thought you and Zabini were getting it on, but apparently I was mistaken since that pale boy is no child of his. So who's the lucky man? Are you Mrs. Flint, these days? Or perhaps even Mrs. Bole?"

"Goyle, actually."

Draco's eyebrows rose; He couldn't hide his surprise.

"Oh shut up…"

"I didn't say anything, _Mrs. Goyle_."

She sniffed, turning up her nose, but let that one slide.

"So what about you, Draco? Who's your lady, hmm?"

As if on cue, a woman walked over to Draco, along with a small boy. Her eyes were sad and dark, as she gave Draco a small peck on the cheek and whispered something into his ear.

Draco nodded, and bent down to the small boy who clung to his mother's skirt.

"Scorpius, don't you want to learn all sorts of spells and magic?"

The boy looked up at Draco with bleary eyes and slowly nodded his head yes.

"Well, if you want to do that, you're going to have to go to Hogwarts."

The boy's head dropped again, and he started crying again.

Draco took him by the shoulders and squatted down so he was on the same level as the child.

"I know it's tough, but it's only until Christmas, okay? You'll get to see your Mum and I again soon, okay?"

He gave his son a long hug, and then sent him on his way just as the train was beginning to sound its whistle.

He watched Scorpius and his mother run off towards one of the cars of the train before turning his attention back to Pansy, who had a smirk on her face.

"Astoria Greengrass, eh? Not so bad… and your boy – he's gonna be a good one. Missed out on those blonde Malfoy genes though, such a shame. But look at you now - Quite the model father, if I do say so myself. Better than Gregg anyways… but then again, I'm sure a monkey would be a more suitable father than that oaf. Some days I wish I'd gotten with Zabini – not that he's the best husband in the world either, of course. I mean, have you seen that Muggle girl he's got? She's always black and blue, but I'm sure he's confunded her so she won't leave him or anything… Can you imagine? What a dick. Oh! And did you hear about –"

Listening to Pansy gush about all sorts of gossip, Draco had an idea suddenly.

"Hey Pansy… do you know whatever happened to Lovegood?"

Pansy smirked slightly.

"You mean after she lost her marbles locked in your basement?"

Draco turned to face the wind but nodded.

"Well, she was at… you know…" Pansy skipped gently over the topic of the Battle of Hogwarts, and Draco nodded in acknowledgement and gestured for her to continue.

"After that, I heard she got with some nature-crazy wizard who's just as loony as she is. Apparently, they've got a room in their house that's full of boxes with dead spiders and beetles and butterflies all pinned up, and…"

Pansy stopped, drawn out of her words by the sharp intake of breath beside her. Then she saw the tears slowly rolling down Draco's face.

"Draco? Are you –"

She reached out, but he crossed his arms and turned away.

"What's the big deal? It's just Loony - Oh… _Oh_. But –"

He nodded almost imperceptibly.

Her hand flew up to cover her mouth as she let out a her own gasp.

"Oh – Oh my god I— I'm so sorry, I didn't… I never thought that…Really?"

Eyes closed, he nodded again.

"Wow…"

They stood in silence for a moment as the red train finally pulled out of the station, and Pansy placed her hand on her old friend's shoulder.

Then Pansy's moment of humanity passed, and she smiled, though it wasn't _quite_ as mocking when she spoke.

"You know, I always thought you'd have had blonde children."

Draco nodded, watching the smoke curl through the air behind the last car of the train.

"Me too."

post read: _guys... guys... guys... did you like it? this is my baby, my child, the story that has been stuck in my brain for the past forever. please, please, please let me know what you think? good things, bad things, ugly things, pretty things? i'll take it all. _

_love, junejune_


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